


Delicious Disasters

by galoots



Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics)
Genre: Baking, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galoots/pseuds/galoots
Relationships: Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29
Collections: Team Uncle Week 2020





	Delicious Disasters

Scrooge rolled out a disc of chilled cookie dough on a baking sheet. Baking was usually Duckworth’s and Donald’s forte, but a man had to do what a man had to do. Rolling up his sleeves, Scrooge grit his teeth determined to see out the job he’d started.

While Scrooge in the kitchen often spelled out disaster, there was a good reason for where he was. First, and most importantly, his darling nephew was coming home from college for a holiday break and with Duckworth on his way to pick their boy up from the bus station, Scrooge had plenty of time to surprise them both with some home-baked goods upon their return. Second, Scrooge had bought the most darling cookie cutters the other day and he was itching to make use of them. They were shaped, get this, like dollar signs. Scrooge had just about nearly died when he saw them in the shop window. They were perfect. He had to have them. He had to bake with them. Even if he was an utter klutz in the kitchen.

In order to avoid a baking disaster, Scrooge had carefully studied Duckworth’s actions in the kitchen the week prior and did his best to emulate them. His sleeves were carefully cuffed, his sideburns pinned back, and an all too large apron was tied around his waist. He could do this. He would do this! For Donald! For Duckworth!

The two of them had made him numerous treats over the years and now it was time to pay them back. Of course, Scrooge was nary capable of the kind of culinary feats his husband and son could pull off, but even he could bake some cookies, right?

Right.

He pushed down on the cookie cutter again and again, turning out perfect dollar bill gingerbread. They were lined up on the baking sheet looking to all the world like Scrooge McDuck’s annual paycheck. Scrooge even made a few extra seasonal shapes with their other cutters: leaves, pumpkins, and acorns danced around the granite countertop in a delicious array. Once they were cooked, they could frost them all together as a family. What fun they would have! Scrooge only had to exercise a little more patience before he could throw his arms around his duckling.

He hummed a melody-less tune to himself as he popped his cookies into the oven. There was little more to do now than set a timer and wait. He settled into a chair and unfolded that morning’s paper to pass the time.

He didn’t get very far into the article he was reading.

Enveloped in the sugary, ginger-scented warm air of the kitchen, Scrooge promptly fell into a doze. He dreamt of walking alongside a riverbank with Donald, a child again, holding his hand. The scenes were dazzling in their autumnal display and Donald played in the giant piles of colorful fallen leaves.

Until the alarm went off. Jostled from his nap by the clanging bells of the kitchen timer, Scrooge nearly jumped out of his skin. His cookies! He rushed towards the oven throwing open the door in a panic. A blast of heat straight to the face sent him reeling back into the countertop.

He didn’t even register the pain, before he heard voices and heavy footsteps approaching the house. His son!

He wheeled around ready to dash to the door to greet them with open arms when he remembered his cookies. They were going to burn. Torn between two directions, Scrooge chose to rush back the cookies and grab the tray with his bare hands.

Donald was welcomed home by the pained scream of his uncle. He dropped his luggage on the floor and dashed into the kitchen. “Uncle Scrooge!”

Scrooge was hopping up in down in pain, waving his reddened hands in a frantic display. Nearby a tray of cookies had been unceremoniously thrown down unto the nearest surface. The oven door hung open, spewing out convected heat. Donald was able to piece together what had happened. He herded his uncle by the shoulders to the sink to stick his injuries under cold water.

No less alarmed by the sight they had walked in on, Duckworth ran to the bathroom to fetch the first-aid kit.

What a welcome home that was. 

* * *

After they’d recovered from the shock of the incident, the three of them sat in the kitchen side-by-side. Scrooge’s hands were cartoonishly bandaged and the cookies had been moved to a bin after cooling.

Donald scolded his uncle for his foolishness. “How could you do something so stupid, Uncle Scrooge? You could have seriously hurt yourself! Your lucky we came in when we did!”

Scrooge couldn’t even bother to care about the scolding. He was to happy his little boy was home. He smiled at Donald as his duck chewed him out.

“That’s right,” Scrooge chimed in gleefully, “You saved me. My hero!”

“You aren’t even listening to me, are you?” Donald sighed.

Duckworth couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Donald had grown so much in his absence. Now here he was scolding Scrooge over some foolish mistake instead of the other way around.

“Could you feed me a cookie, sweetheart?” Scrooge pointed clumsily at the dollar bill sign shaped cookies with his bandaged hands. “I want to taste the fruits of my labor!”

With a roll of his eyes, Donald complied. “You are impossible, Uncle Scrooge.”

Scrooge happily munched on the cookie he was offered. “I love you too, laddie.”


End file.
